Crime and Punishment
by Lectictinium
Summary: Songfic based on 'Crime and Punishment' - Hatsune Miku. Written in 1st person  The bitter, unrequited love between France and England has continued for years and has reached the point where both can no longer try to convince the other of their feelings.   Note: I'm probably going to re-write this at some point since it's not the best I could write


If only you had an ear that would listen to what I have to say, without throwing insults or refusals at me. If you did, then I would repeat it over and over again for you to hear. Then would you–

...

If only you had a heart to feel with, you bastard. All that matters to you is who lies next to you in bed, the one you'll wake up to next morning after a busy night. If you did, then I'd be able to make you understand and I'd give you all of what I had. Then would you–

...

I told you again today, I tried to be more direct as we were left alone in the room, a non-existent audience seated round the table as I grabbed your arm. I told you without my voice faltering, though I think my pain showed. You glared at me stubbornly and laughed, a sound as hollow as a dead tree. I hated it.

...

I want to wipe that look off your face, the one that promises that you aren't throwing falsehoods at my feet, the one that wants me to trust you. I can't believe this. It's mutual, right? Our hate. I smack away the hand that is gripping me and walk to the door.

...

If you're going to hate me, then please kill me. You just glare at me, your eyes burn with the rage and the disgust and that hate. I hate the way you hate me. If you're going to hate me that much, maybe I shouldn't try anymore. You've tried to kill me before, so if I can't make you listen, then you don't want me here. You don't need me, do you? Or maybe you do.

I can hear more of that hate as you close the door behind you.

...

If you aren't going to return what lies in my heart, then I'd rather you killed me, like I tried to do all those years ago. To you I'm just another object. A toy for you to play with and get bored of and throw away. You're just a monster, feeding off of those who you consider worthy of your presence. I don't give a damn about you. You don't even see 'me' do you? Just a body. I'm not here, I don't want to be here. Not with you. Or maybe I do.

I leave the room with a bitter laugh.

...

"If only…" If only. It won't get me anywhere now, because you clearly don't want to move forward. You don't have the feelings I do. You just throw both our hearts at my feet and stamp on them, that's how much you care. I wouldn't try now even if this could be the day when my voice reaches you. I don't think I should try and make you listen anymore…

...

"If only you had…" Hah, like you care. Like I care anymore. I hate you. I really do hate you… The tears are nothing but my imagination. The last drops running down my throat are what count. You don't have a heart, because if you did I could rip both of ours out and show the difference between them, one full and one empty and hollow. I give up. I wouldn't do anything differently now even if you finally understood me. I don't think I should try and make you care anymore…

...

Suicide isn't something I'd consider. That's what you would do, what you have tried to do in the past. It's in your personality. Maybe you're just programmed to hate me. There are only so many ways I can tell you how I feel, and I'm running out of ideas. I'm meant to be the best at this aren't I? Obviously I'm not if I can't think how you think, so then I could tell you what you want to hear without lying about myself. This isn't what I'd normally do but… Red. The roses are the same colour, but you ignore those too. Maybe I'll give you my blood instead, if that's how you want it to be. But I don't seem to get anywhere with this. I can't even let you know how I feel this way; my blood just sits on my arm doing nothing. I can't do anything right for you, can I?

...

If I don't get rid of myself, then I'd be worth even less to you. If I died, you'd lose a doll that's important to you, and mourn over the loss of your possession. At least then you'd be feeling something for me. If I don't do this the eventually you'll bore of me and I really will mean nothing to you, and you won't see me anymore. Because I'm nothing really. I just want you to feel my pain for once. This conflict inside me hurts. I hate you, I really do.

The blood on my fingers is just from a papercut.

...

We saw each other again the next day. I stared at you throughout, not listening to the buzzing voices talking about something or other. We were left alone again.

If I try to hate you, truly and utterly, like you do me, would you try to care for me then? Would you try to show more attention to me, other than the constant verbal abuse and the soft growls when I listen to what you have to say and try to stop you hurting yourself. Like all those years ago, when I sat with you and listened. I want you to care more; more than just caring about how I react when you say you hate me, and more than just caring about me when I listen to you and pick you up off the floor. I want you to know I'm here for you, and that I want you to be here for me, with me, too.

...

I ignored those eyes, deep as the sea and just as dark and cruel, as you stared at me. I tried to leave with the others but you pulled me back again, looking solemn. I didn't think you were capable of any emotion other than greed. Lust isn't really an emotion now, is it?

The one who used to cry at night and let you help me to my feet is gone. I don't want you near me, and I don't need you anymore. That was the past, and I want to get rid of it. I've given up with you. The weak me isn't here anymore. I'm not here either though. And you know, that hurts.

...

If only you had an ear, like I do that is willing to listen for once! I'm crying out for you to hear, and yet you know nothing! Would you believe me if I got on my knees? Then would you?

I give up.

...

If only you had a heart like me, that beats for you and wants to be in synch with you! I'm trying desperately to make you understand that what I say is not always what I mean, and that I want you to tell me the truth. I'd rather you say you hate me than lie about your feelings. Would you try to feel if I started dying in front of you? Would you understand then? Would you?

I give up.

...

I screamed at you, trying to make you hear me. I screamed that I hated you. I screamed and it hurt because hate isn't what I feel. I screamed out all the emotions inside of me for you to hear. Pick which one takes your fancy. I don't want to reach your deafened ears. I don't want you to listen any more, I just want you to hear my pain. And I want you to feel my pain.

...

I shouted back, spitting out lies about what I felt, I don't think you even cared that the tears revealed what I truly wanted to say, what I truly felt. I beat my fist against the wall, I didn't notice you had the same scars as I until after but I didn't care anyway. I don't want to fill your empty heart with what I wanted you to feel for me. I don't want to try and make you care or understand anymore. I just want you to feel pain, the only thing that I can possibly make you feel now.

...

I just want to see the agony on your face. That's all I care about now. And that's enough for me in the end.

...

If only you had the ears that I have then I would tell you in every way from the bottom of my heart how I felt, then would you feel me?

If only you had the heart that I have then I would flood you with everything I feel for you, the true feelings behind the lies I say, then would you feel me?

...

Then would you love me?

* * *

><p>http:  / www . youtube . com / watch?v= enc3faFP8vk

Herpaderp. Was listening to the song when this popped up. There's actually a FrUK (and a USUK) PV of it which someone made. http: / / www . youtube . com / watch?v= msu6Sf_Bi9I

Yeah, I wrote this reeeaallly quickly xD Like, in an hour or so which explains why it's so bad. Looking at it now, it's not actually that great.

I don't think it's very clear, but it sounded better in my head as usual xD and France and Iggy are a bit OOC here I think, sorry.

Here's a long summary so you understand: France has been trying to confess to England for quite a while, now at the point where he's just plainly spelling it out to him, but is always rejected because England (our favourite little tsundere) doesn't want to believe that France actually loves him. Both of them have been trying to understand each other, England being unable to tell France how he feels and France constantly failing to get a response from England.

England is fed up of lying to himself and desperately refuses to believe France even though he wants it to be true, so is willing to kill himself because he can't see any other way to avoid getting hurt more. France just wants to show that he's willing to hurt himself more obviously to get England to actually take notice of him and prove he's telling the truth.

France considers trying to hate England, because that might be easier and once again a way of getting attention. He comforted England in the past (after America's Independence) and it seems that England only ever takes notice of France when he did that or when they're arguing. England doesn't want to be held down by his feelings of the past and so wants to forget any reason to love France.

Eventually both of them give up trying to confess to each other, turning bitter and resort just to hating each other because it's easier and better for them to know that they at least share one common feeling, leaving their love unrequited.

That was a long explanation, but I hope I was able to convey their feelings in a kind of raw and hurtful way, because they have an interesting love-hate relationship. That's why I didn't use much description and wrote in 1st person. The narrative alternates between France then England throughout, until the ending.


End file.
